<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>One Always Lies by withtheworms</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28116387">One Always Lies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/withtheworms/pseuds/withtheworms'>withtheworms</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cream, Crossmare - Freeform, DreamMare - Freeform, M/M, Pining, Undertale Multiverse, Unrequited, bad-poly, kcrm, killermare - Freeform, kross - Freeform, sometimes people just aren't good for each other no matter how hard they try, utmv - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:21:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>987</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28116387</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/withtheworms/pseuds/withtheworms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nightmare is a void where feelings go to die.  One by one three souls attempt to give him everything they have, only for him to say, repeatedly, "this is not enough." </p><p>On the surface this looks like a Nightmare problem, but there is more than one void in this equation.  </p><p>One of them just happens to be better at hiding than the other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sans/Sans (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One Always Lies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's a sad fic.  you know me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m leaving.”</p><p>“Good luck.” Killer doesn’t look up from sharpening his knife, and the slow slide of his blade along the whetstone continues uninterrupted.  His response is automatic and disinterested and sticks between Cross’s ribs like he’s been shanked.</p><p>“You should come with me.” Cross’s voice is hard and determined as he stands just inside the door to Killer's room.  He's holding a rigid posture- ready in an instant to slide into a defensive stance should the mood within the closed space shift.  </p><p>Killer likes him so much.</p><p>But… </p><p>(<em>not enough) </em></p><p>“Thanks for the invitation.” If Killer had eyelights they’d slide up to look at Cross.  Instead, empty sockets tilt in Cross’s direction, his grin pulled brittle-tight as he tests the tip of his knife against a phalange. “I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>“Killer-”</p><p>“Cross.”</p><p>“<em>Dream- </em>”</p><p>“Dream wants <em> you </em> to go with him.” The knife sliding across Killer’s whetstone resumes, and the faltering of his grin is hidden as he redirects his attention back to the task at hand. “Lucky you.”</p><p>Killer can feel the way the words stick in Cross’s throat: Dream wants you, too.  <em> I </em> want you, too.  However, like so many things Cross always wants to say but for some reason just can't, the sentiment doesn’t quite make it past his teeth.</p><p>“I-”</p><p>“You’re wasting your time.”</p><p>The reality of their situation hangs open and exposed between them.  Vulnerable, like a jugular.  Cross feels Killer’s implication so strongly that his knees go weak and the dedication of his posture falters.  Killer doesn’t acknowledge it, but his acceptance of his place in their little drama is written in every smooth stroke of his knife.  There is nothing resentful in his actions, just simple, easy resignation.  </p><p>
  <em> (it’s too late for me) </em>
</p><p>Cross’s emotions are a beacon, so brazen and fiery and out of control that even Killer can feel them radiating off him.  He’s righteous and determined and it’s so, so, <em> so </em> loud.</p><p>“He’s going to hear you,” Killer says, conversational but clipped. “If this is your window, it’s closing.”</p><p>Cross hesitates, and it’d be heartbreaking if Killer was inclined to feel things that way.</p><p>“If you change your mind-”</p><p>“I won’t.”</p><p>The silence feels like too much and not enough all at once.  Killer remembers the conversations they’ve had- dozens and dozens of times, running around the same simple, hollow explanation. </p><p>(<em>he’s not a bad person, he just behaves badly) </em></p><p>
  <em> (it’s an obligation, it’s not like he wants to) </em>
</p><p>
  <em> (they balance one another.  it’s how it has to be) </em>
</p><p>He’s tried over and over to convince Cross that it’s not all bad, that he stays for a reason, that it’s not as easy as just leaving.  That there are moments- slivers of something better, something <em> not this- </em>that he clings to.  </p><p>His case is always flimsy, though, built on a silt foundation that slides away whenever Cross tests it with the slightest bit of pressure.</p><p>(<em>if he really cared about you.  If he really loved us) </em> </p><p>He applies slightly too much force and his knife scrapes unpleasantly.  He’s tired of hearing it. </p><p>
  <em> (it has to be like this.  it’s not his fault) </em>
</p><p>Not everyone is going to get Cross’s happy ending. </p><p>There’s a sound- something being placed on the table, and then the unmistakable perforation of code as it's split neatly to create a portal. The air begins to pull, like a vacuum, and Cross has to raise his voice slightly to be heard.</p><p>“I want you to come with me.”</p><p>It doesn’t matter.  This scenario could play out a hundred ways in a thousand different timelines and Killer still knows he’d never go.  He envies Cross for his freedom, but it’s a liberty he personally gave up a long time ago.  </p><p>“Send me a postcard.” Killer won’t look up.  He knows if he does he’ll waver, and that will alert Nightmare too soon.  </p><p>He needs to give Cross a fighting chance. It’s only fair.  </p><p>There’s a second of hesitation- of <em> lingering </em>.  Killer thinks he maybe hears Cross say “I’ll miss you,” but it’s impossible to confirm.  The portal closes and the air pressure stabilizes, and Killer looks up and finds that he is alone.  There’s no Cross, no lingering tension, no righteous indignation, no threat of a better life that looms ready to claim him if he falters.  The only thing remaining is the knife Cross left, palm sized and curved- a dagger, really- placed obviously on the table.  It’s a sentimental gesture that any idiot would recognize.  </p><p>Fool him once, etc. etc.  </p><p>Killer ignores the token as he gets to his feet, his own knife slipping effortlessly up his sleeve as the whetstone falls back into his inventory.  He won’t fall into the trap of Cross’s romantic ideas- despite how good it feels to be held in those arms sometimes... despite how his soul flares when Cross whispers those deep, ardent, devoted words... despite how easy it is for him to come apart under Cross, knowing he’ll hold him as he puts himself back together after.</p><p>Not this time.  </p><p>He’s past the point of thinking things will get better, and believing he deserves anything different than the way they currently are.  </p><p>Endless optimism and boundless negativity.  It makes sense that one of them gets to go while the other remains to linger on.  </p><p>It’s all about the balance.  </p><p>Killer leaves his room and without issue locates Nightmare.  The castle is large, but its interior bends itself around any sort of intent.  The last place a person wants to be is exactly where they’ll arrive, so it’s easy for Killer to take a left, descend three stairs, and push through the door into Nightmare’s study.  </p><p>On a good day Nightmare has so little to do it’s outstanding.  Sometimes he journals, which Killer finds endearing if he’s feeling charitable.  </p><p>Today he feels nothing, and his voice is flat as he speaks. </p><p>“Boss, we got a problem.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>